


Gentlemen Spies

by rougewinter



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, kingsman!mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3561968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rougewinter/pseuds/rougewinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for <a href="http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/22636.html?thread=133176172#t133176172">this prompt</a>. Mycroft is a Kingsman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentlemen Spies

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the ever wonderful [Alphera](http://alphera.livejournal.com/) who is my fic fairy godmother, waving her magic wand and making things better.

  
A knock drew Mycroft’s attention from the newspaper he was reading. He glanced up, calling for his guest to enter as he folded the paper away, having had enough of the dull headlines for one day.

The door to his private room in the Diogenes Club opened to reveal the club’s valet showing in a young gentleman in a dark pinstripe suit. Mycroft stood in greeting, buttoning up his jacket as he watched the valet close the door from the outside. 

“Galahad.” Mycroft greeted as he offered his hand for a shake. “Drink?” he asked as he headed towards the side bar.

Galahad smiled slightly and nodded, thanking Mycroft when he was handed the amber liquid. 

“May I?” The young man asked, gesturing to the plush leather chair across from where Mycroft had been sitting. 

“Please.” Mycroft said, taking a seat himself as he nursed his own drink. 

“Good work on the Valentine case.” Mycroft commended, swirling his Brandy as he watched the newest Galahad closely. He had read the file Merlin provided him and was up to date on what happened. He was, after all, still dealing with the aftermath of the loss of so many world leaders. The only reason the British Government was still standing was because Mycroft saw the ploy in time and made the necessary preparations to keep key government players alive.

“Merlin had nothing but praise for your performance. I’d say you’ve officially earned the codename ‘Galahad’. Harry would be so proud of you.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” The boy had a very good poker face, and had it not been for the slight pause before the younger spy responded, Mycroft would have thought that Galahad was barely affected by the death of his mentor. 

Mycroft held Galahad’s gaze until the young man looked away, hiding nervousness behind the act of downing the golden liquid in one gulp. Mycroft catalogued the reaction and made a thoughtful noise, but did not voice his observations as he handed a tablet to the young man.

“Your mission,” Mycroft began as Galahad double-tapped the device, the young man’s eyes quickly taking in the information, “there are rumours that a local group has been smuggling military-grade weapons into London. A source says that a large shipment arrived last night and will be sold at a private auction at that address.

“Merlin has taken the liberty of adding you to the guest list of the fundraiser party, which, according to our source, is a front for London’s elite to ‘donate’ their money for a ‘good cause’.” There was no mistaking the older man’s sarcastic tone. It was a smart plan, Galahad reasoned, as he looked through the information provided. The men and women would write their cheques to a _‘non-profit’_ and get a nice _‘thank you gift’_ for their contributions. 

Galahad had the good sense not to react at the biodata of attendees presented to him. A good number of the expected attendees held places in high society and were suspected of criminal activities, but none were ever brought to light. He committed the faces to memory before returning his full attention to the older gentleman.

“Substantiate the tip. Find out who’s peddling and who’s buying. If need be, eliminate the threat. Bedivere will join you on this one. He’s been briefed and will meet you outside the _shop_ an hour before the party begins.” 

“I’ll get right on it.” Galahad said, rising to his feet and returning the tab to Mycroft. 

“I must say, it’s a pleasure to meet the new Arthur.” Galahad said as Mycroft walked him to the door. 

“New Arthur? Heavens no.” Mycroft said with an amused smile. “I’m not suited to that role. I have my hands full with the British Government already. I’m only filling in for when Arthur is ready. But if you must, you may call me Guinevere.” 

The confused look on Galahad’s face as Mycroft ushered him out was priceless. 

\----- 

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you.” Eggsy said with a scowl once he arrived back at Kingsman HQ, knowing the older man saw the interaction through his glasses. 

Merlin smirked as he swiveled his chair to face the young spy. “A meeting with Guinevere is an honour. Only a handful know of his existence, and even fewer have had the pleasure of meeting him.” 

“A heads up would’ve been nice.” Eggsy grumbled as he moved to the other side of the room to arm himself with the new toys Merlin had ready. 

“A Kingsman always expects the unexpected.” Merlin said as he handed Eggsy a spare gun cartridge.

“How the _fuck_ do you even expect the unexpected?” Eggsy said with a raised brow after he pocketed the gadgets. 

“For one,” Merlin responded as he demonstrated a set of cufflinks that worked as long-range tracking and listening devices, “don’t assume that just because I tell you to report to another place for an assignment that you’ll be meeting Arthur. Nor should you assume that Guinevere would be a woman.” 

Eggsy kept his comment that he hadn’t expected there to be a ‘Guinevere’ at all to himself. 

“All set.” Merlin said as he took a step back and smiled at his young charge. He handed Eggsy his cover identity for the night and wished him luck. 

\----- 

For all of Merlin’s comments on expecting the unexpected, Eggsy was definitely not prepared when he finally met Bedivere. 

“You certainly took your time.” The other agent said with a sniff and an upturned nose. Eggsy should have been used to snobby aristocrats who look at him like he was less than scum, but he had hoped that having saved the world had earned him the basic respect a Kingsman deserved. 

“Apologies.” He said instead, deciding to be the better man and biting down a rude retort as he took in the tall man’s appearance. Dressed in an evening tux, the man had piercing green-blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and slicked back dirty blonde hair. Eggsy supposed the man could be considered handsome, but he much preferred his men slightly older, with soft brown hair, rich brown eyes, and who looked delectable in a bespoke suit. He quickly stopped that train of thought before he lost himself to guilt and regret again. 

“Shall we?” Galahad said as he gestured to the waiting taxi by the curb. 

\----- 

Galahad and Bedivere arrived at the party without a hitch. Galahad turned on his spectacles when they reached the party proper held in the grand garden, giving Merlin a look at the venue. There was a stage and screen set up at the far end of the grounds, round dining tables around the middle of the garden while cocktail tables littered the sides for roaming guests. A free flowing bar was to the left of the stage while a live band was stationed on the right. Galahad swiped a champagne from a passing server as he descended the stairs to mingle with the crowd while Bedivere took a glass of scotch, leaning over the balustrade for a better view of the party. 

“Quite a number of A-listers present.” Galahad said, knowing both Bedivere and Merlin were in communication with him. “A surprising amount after the Valentine incident.”

“I suppose these were the ones smart enough not to trust Valentine.” Galahad heard Merlin say over the comms, knowing the tech could see the scene as well as he could through his glasses. 

“Or those not worth saving.” Bedivere chimed in. Galahad didn’t need to see his associate’s face as he could easily imagine the condescending look Bedivere was shooting the crowd. 

Merlin patched through the information of the guests as Eggsy worked the crowd, smiling and making the necessary small talk. A foxy redhead with a killer dress caught his eye and he smoothly made his way over to her. 

As he introduced himself and she let him order her a drink, he didn’t need the data that flashed over his eyes with the way she engaged him in conversation. Heiress to a large fortune, she had already attended a number of similar benefits with her friends but has yet to make any donation. They flirted, she laughed and they both exchanged numbers before parting when the host announced that dinner was about to be served. 

“I’ll check out the mansion,” Eggsy said as he started ascending the stairs to the main house, “see if there are any clues we can get before the auction starts. Bedivere, you stay here and keep an eye out, yea?” 

Eggsy waited for an affirmative as he got closer to the doors, but hearing nothing but silence, he called out to Bedivere once more. 

“Answer me, you damn prick!” Galahad hissed into his comm device, but it was Merlin who answered back. 

“I’m afraid Bedivere has taken it upon himself to scout the place out. His tracker places him in the east wing and. Oh. That’s not good.” 

Galahad cursed when Merlin patched a feed of Bedivere getting cornered by some hired goons. Bedivere seemed to be able to handle the first three that charged at him, but a few more came in through another door and it was clear he was outnumbered. Eggsy didn’t need Merlin to prompt him that Bedivere needed back up as he quickly made his way to his partner’s location. If Bedivere made it out alive, Eggsy was going to fucking kill him. 

Eggsy was able to get five of the goons good while Bedivere incapacitated the other four. When the threat was no longer imminent, Eggsy surveyed the room and glared at Bedivere, ready to chew him out for such a stupid rookie stunt that even he knew not to pull.

“Eggsy.” Merlin said into his comm, “I don’t want to alarm you, but that’s not Bedivere.” 

In the next moment, Galahad had his firearm trained on Bedivere. “Alright, you bastard, who the fuck are you?” 

The vibrant eyes darted up from glaring disapprovingly at the carnage at Eggsy’s feet to glaring at Eggsy. “Merlin tip you off?” Bedivere said, raising his hands to show he was unarmed. 

“That, and the fact that you don’t move like a Kingsman.” 

“So that’s your organisation.” A feminine voice piped in from the other side of the room, catching both spies’ attention. “I had wondered if you were working alone.” Eggsy cursed his bad luck when he saw the foxy redhead standing at the door with armed henchmen. 

“Sorry boys, I’m afraid I can’t have you breaking up my little party. My toys don’t sell themselves.” She said with a dangerous smile as her men quickly disarmed and bound their hands behind them in seconds. 

“Take them down to where the other one is. They’ll keep until we finish tonight.” The hired goons pushed the two spies until they got the message and started walking out the room.

“I’ll have fun with you later, cutie.” She said to Eggsy with a wink, ruffling his hair as they walked past. 

“As soon as we get out of this, I’m going to fucking wring your neck.” Eggsy murmured as they were frogmarched down another hall. 

“I’d like to see you try.” _Bedivere_ replied with a snarl.

“Oi! Shut up both of you.” One of the men said, shoving Eggsy and knocking his glasses off his face when he collided with the wall. 

_Bedivere_ took the opportunity to charge at a man to his right as Eggsy got his bearings back, soon joining _Bedivere_ in the struggle. 

Together they were able to take down three more, but a few swift hits to the head had both of them down and out. 

\----- 

“Hey. Hey kid, you ok?” Eggsy regained consciousness slowly and was greeted with the sight of an older man hovering worriedly over him. 

“He’ll be fine.” _Bedivere_ said from a far corner. Eggsy forced himself to sit up, despite the dizzy spell, just so he could properly imagine punching the blonde’s face. 

“Shut up, Sherlock.” The man who helped Eggsy up said over his shoulder with a glare. 

“I’m Detective Inspector Lestrade.” The man with the salt and pepper hair said with a friendly smile. “And you are?” 

“Lestrade, stop it with the friendly introductions and get me out of these.” Sherlock said with a shake of his manacled wrists. 

“You can break out of my handcuffs but you can’t break out of duct tape?” The detective inspector said with a grin, remaining by Eggsy’s side as he worked on Galahad’s bindings first. Eggsy enjoyed the satisfying feeling of seeing the blonde man struggle in frustration.

“Are you getting back at me for last night at the docks?” Sherlock said as he shimmied towards the two of them. “Because I told you to run and you didn’t so it’s really your fault that you got caught.” 

“You could also have created a better diversion so I would have had more time to escape.” Lestrade huffed as he managed to get Eggsy’s ankles free. 

He was about to get the tape binding Eggsy’s wrists, but the young man shook his head, executing a move that brought his wrists under his legs and swinging them to his front. He then raised his hands up high and quickly struck them down and away from each other, effectively breaking the silver bindings and leaving both Lestrade and Sherlock in shock.

“I could have easily managed detective inspector, but I appreciate the assist.” 

When they finally got Sherlock out of his own bindings, the tall man shot up and started pacing the room, taking stock of the cell they were in while his hands roamed in an effort to find a way out.

“Tell me you alerted Scotland Yard and told them where to find me.” Lestrade said, watching Sherlock work.

“Ha. As if they’d listen to me. Sally would just arrest me on sight and then who’d save you?” Turning sharply around to face the young spy, Sherlock continued,

“Any chance you’ve got a weapon on you we can use?” 

“Sorry bruv.” The Eggsy said with a shrug. “They even took my signet ring.” 

“Well, I suppose that’s it then. We’re officially fucked.” Lestrade groaned and rubbed his temple as a headache started to form.

“Merlin would have called for backup by now.” Galahad said, straightening his tie and smoothing his hair back down. “We just have to sit back and wait.” Eggsy shot Sherlock a dark look as he leaned against a wall with his arms crossed. He hated thinking of how he let Harry down with the failed mission, but he figured he earned some points by showing restraint by not beating the shit out of Sherlock for forcing himself into a Kingsman mission. Which really still left a lot of questions unanswered.

“How did you get past our security and hijack Bedivere’s cover?” Eggsy asked, slowly pushing himself off the wall and bringing himself up to full height. “In fact, how did you even know about us at all?” 

“You’re all painfully obvious. The way you think yourselves discrete is laughable.” Sherlock scoffed as he turned to face the spy with a cocky smile on his lips. He inserted his hands into his pockets as if Eggsy was no threat to him. Eggsy figured that he would honour Harry’s memory another day as he quickly landed a punch on the prick’s face.

Sherlock stumbled back, nursing a split lip while Lestrade placed himself between them and talked Eggsy down from throwing another punch. 

Eggsy was about to side-step the detective inspector and demand some real answers when a solid explosion resounded and the foundations of the house shook with the impact. 

“It seems the cavalry has arrived.” Sherlock said, not caring that blood was still dripping from his mouth.

Gunshots and loud screams were heard from outside their prison along the hallway leading to their cell. After a few moments, the sounds stopped, signaling that the guards posted outside were officially down for the count.

Footsteps could be heard echoing on the pavement outside before a key slotted into their metal door, revealing the last Kingsman agent Eggsy expected to come to their rescue. 

Standing in shock, Eggsy could do nothing but stare as Harry walked in and fished out a spare pair of glasses from his jacket pocket, settling them onto Eggsy’s face where they belonged. 

“Come on then.” Harry said, which snapped Eggsy back to reality. “The distraction isn’t going to last long.” 

Eggsy was handed a spare gun and all four men quickly ran through the house, threats eliminated easily now that there were two real Kingsmen to deal damage. 

Eggsy corrected himself when he saw Guinevere around the next corner taking down another five in one swoop. 

“I’m surprised you’re here, Mycroft.” Sherlock shouted over the sound of gunshots as all five men made their way to the expansive lawn at the front of the manor. “You’re not usually one for _legwork_.” 

“I decided to make an exception, seeing as my younger brother decided to meddle in state affairs.” Mycroft responded easily, hooking his umbrella around a henchman’s neck and slamming the man against a wall. 

“Oh please.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and ducked under a henchman, throwing an elbow up against the goon’s nose. “Let’s not both pretend that you’re here for me.” He emphasized his point by throwing the goon towards Lestrade who caught the man easily and knocked him unconscious. Lestrade looked up with a bemused expression as he stared at the Holmes brothers. 

“Gentlemen.” Harry’s voice clearly projected that he had no patience to sit through a brotherly disagreement while under fire. “As wonderful as it is to finally meet your family, Guinevere, perhaps we can save this for when we’re not all in a life-threatening situation.” 

Everyone seemed agreeable to the suggestion and they made their way out the front door. 

Merlin was waiting by their getaway helicopter, Roxy as his second, as they shot down as much of the goons as they could. Mycroft had Sherlock and Lestrade enter the ride first, following after them to provide cover fire for the two other agents to board. 

As soon as the helicopter was a good distance away, Roxy launched a missile that tore the mansion down. 

Eggsy flopped back against the seat, breathing heavily, but letting out a relieved chuckle at having survived yet another dangerous mission. 

“Good work.” Harry said from Eggsy’s left, a tender smile gracing his lips that Eggsy wanted nothing more than to kiss right off the bastard’s face. 

“Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself.” Eggsy responded with a small smile of his own. “For a dead man.” 

Harry had the good grace to look sheepishly apologetic. 

“I do owe you an explanation, don’t I?” 

“Yeah. But that can wait until we get back to HQ.” The younger spy said as he reached for his pocket square and pressed it hard against Harry’s right shoulder where a bullet had torn through, earning a pained hiss from his mentor. “We have to patch you up first. So I can really let you have it for making us all worry.” 

Harry could tell Eggsy wasn’t going to make it easy for him, but with the way Eggsy was looking at him like he was everything good in the world, he realised there was no where else he’d rather be. 

\----- 

“There you go.” Doctor Isla said as she finished dressing the wound on Harry’s shoulder. “You know the drill.” She placed the bottle of pills on the table beside the hospital bed. “Make sure you don’t strain the shoulder and come back in a few days for a follow-up.” 

“I know from experience that you have trouble following my advice to the letter, Eggsy,” The doctor said, turning to the younger gentleman with a stern look, “but do make sure Harry here gets a lot of rest. He’s not even supposed to be back on field yet. It’s not every day one survives a shot to the head.” Harry looked adorably sheepish at being the focus of the woman’s angry glare. 

“The organisation is short-handed.”

“The organisation has survived worse.” The doctor responded with an exasperated sigh, “A few days of rest is all I’m asking for. Stay behind the scenes and command your knights from the Castle, Arthur. As is your role. Don’t make me have to bring in Guinevere.” 

“Oh lord.” Harry looked sick at the mention of the other Kingsman; Eggsy made a note to ask him about that another time. 

“I thought so.” She said with an upward quirk of her lips. “Now excuse me gentlemen. I have to attend to our guests.” 

\----- 

“So. A spy huh?” Lestrade said as he looked up at Mycroft through his lashes with a teasing smile. “Wasn’t expecting that.” 

“Ugh.” A disgruntled Sherlock sounded from their left when the younger Holmes emerged from the bathroom, taking off the blonde wig in disgust. “Stop flirting with him, Lestrade. You’re not likely to remember much of this day anyway.” 

There was a knock and Doctor Isla entered the room just as Sherlock threw the wig angrily into the waste basket. 

“In a few moments, the good doctor here will take a look at us, probably claim that we need a flu shot or something similarly mundane, then they’ll wipe our memory clean of the last two days with some lab-made concoction.” Sherlock finished explaining the process to Lestrade, uncaring of the way the detective inspector stiffened at the mention of a mind-altering substance being injected into his system.

“Quite an active imagination, Mr. Holmes.” Doctor Isla said as she made her way over to the three men, smiling wryly up at Sherlock as she produced a syringe from her pocket. “Incidentally, your records show that you’re in need of a booster shot.” 

Shooting the doctor a hard glare, Sherlock spun on his heel to direct his anger at his brother. “Well it won’t work, Mycroft. I deduced your organisation’s activities and your connection to it. Twice. I can easily do it aga--.” 

Lestrade watched as Sherlock slumped unconscious against the wall then slid to the floor. Standing over him was the doctor, throwing away the syringe into the trash. 

“He really shouldn’t have turned his back on me.” 

She fished another needle out of her coat and faced Lestrade with a calm smile. “Don’t suppose you’d let me do this without a fight?” 

Lestrade swallowed, anxious, and only noticed he had inched back towards Mycroft when he bumped into the other man’s firm frame. Mycroft placed a hand on the detective’s arm, running it soothingly over the limb. 

“We have to do this. For national security. And your own safety.” Mycroft explained softly, turning Lestrade around to face him. 

Lestrade nodded, but the way he held his body tightly made it clear he wanted to be somewhere else. 

Mycroft eased the detective inspector’s dirty and bloody black jacket off carefully, placing it on the side table. 

“You won’t remember the last two days.” Mycroft explained, fingers brushing lightly over Lestrade’s wrist as he undid the button of the other man’s right sleeve. “And we’ve already informed the chief inspector that you’ve been down with the flu so you shouldn’t worry about explaining your absence.” 

Mycroft rolled the sleeve up carefully, taking his time smoothing his hand over Lestrade’s forearm once the fold sat neatly over the detective’s elbow. 

“I suppose it’s a bit late then, getting my flu shot now.” Lestrade said with a nervous chuckle as he tried to ignore the doctor when she disinfected a spot on his outstretched arm. 

Mycroft’s tender smile made Lestrade’s nerves eased a little, but he still sucked in a breath when the sting of the needle pierced his skin. 

The last thing Lestrade was aware of before unconsciousness took over was how safe he felt in Mycroft’s arms. 

\----- 

It was overcast the next day when Mycroft sat down on a park bench beside a young man. 

“Mycroft.” Came the greeting.

“Quinn.” He responded, leaning back as he fished out a pack of breadcrumbs and threw a handful out in front of them. Both men watched as a flock of pigeons gathered, pecking at the treats. 

“I suppose you’re responsible for Sherlock’s presence in a Kingsman operation?” 

The younger man didn’t bother hiding his smirk. “I owed our brother a favour.” 

“Considering that you had a hand in giving him information that compromised the mission, I’d say you more than need to make it up to me.” 

“Oh come now, Mycroft.” Q said as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Your detective inspector came out of this in one piece.” 

“I would prefer he not be exposed to our world at all.” Mycroft said irritably, not bothering to correct Q’s referral of Lestrade as ‘his’. There were more important matters to discuss. 

“Sherlock has been stumbling upon more and more Kingsman missions as of late, as opposed to MI6 ones as he used to. Do you happen to know why?” 

“No comment.” Q said with a shrug, nudging his foot against a particularly fat pigeon when the bird got too close, watching the way the bird fluttered and cooed in surprise before flopping back down by a pile of crumbs. 

“I propose a compromise.” Mycroft continued, “London would benefit from Sherlock’s attention and Sherlock needs a proper outlet. But he also needs someone to keep him in line, someone who poses enough of a challenge to keep him… interested.” 

Q looked at Mycroft with a raised brow when his older brother handed him a flash drive. “Some prospective candidates. Most of them have a military background, some in active service, some already back home. I’d appreciate a more thorough filter if you can lend a hand. You seem to know what he likes more than I do.” 

Q scoffed as pocketed the small item. “Only because I care to know what he prefers.” 

Mycroft gave a soft hum, throwing the rest of the crumbs onto the ground, and smoothly rising from his seat. 

He turned to look at his youngest brother and frowned when he noticed something odd on Q’s countenance. “Are you alright, brother mine?” 

Q gave Mycroft his most innocent expression, but the older Holmes wasn’t letting it go that easily. “If that double-O of yours is giving you grief-”

“I can handle it myself, Mycroft.” Q said, standing up and averting his gaze from Mycroft, watching the birds disperse instead. 

“But thank you, for worrying.” Q said with a weak smile. “I just haven’t heard from him in a while. I’m sure he’ll turn up sooner or later. Field agents, right?” 

Mycroft gave another thoughtful hum but made a mental note to tap his network for any word on Bond. 

“I’ll see you at mother’s then next weekend?” Q asked, zipping up his coat and shoving his hands into his pocket. 

“I’ll make it a point to visit.” Mycroft said, hooking his umbrella on his arm and reaching out to ruffle Q’s hair, earning him a huff from the youngest Holmes. 

“Until then.” Q said with a small smile before disappearing into a crowd of tourists. 

\----- 

Lestrade had been staring in disbelief at the large bouquet of flowers on his desk for the past half hour, but it was the words written in neat black ink on the card attached that held most of his attention.

 _Dear Gregory,_ it read, 

_I do hope you’re feeling better._

_-MH_

“As lovely as it that you’ve received flowers on your day back,” Sally teased from the door, bringing Lestrade’s attention back to the present, “thought you’d like to know that the autopsy’s about to be performed. You coming?” 

“Yeah,” Lestrade said, downing the rest of his now cold coffee, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. 

He followed Sally down to the morgue while mentally composing a proper thank you note to Mycroft for the flowers.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got [tumblr](http://rouge-winter.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
